


At the End of What We Know

by cymyguy



Series: Paraplegic Kageyama [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Body Image, Dating, Dinner dates, First Time, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Major Character Injury, New Relationship, Professional athletes, double amputee Kageyama, injury not detailed, kagehina in their 40s, paraplegic character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 15:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cymyguy/pseuds/cymyguy
Summary: Kageyama had already played in two foreign leagues and two Olympics, been on the cover of dozens of magazines, and signed an endorsement deal with the biggest athletic wear brand based in his home country, at 24. It was summer, and he and two other national team members and one coach had been picked up for a PR event. Their van was involved in a horrible traffic accident, and Kageyama Tobio, starting setter for Japan, was rushed into emergency surgery, where he had both legs amputated below the knee.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Paraplegic Kageyama [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157084
Comments: 19
Kudos: 176





	At the End of What We Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tsunderei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunderei/gifts).



The fact is, Kageyama hadn’t dated at all since his accident. This thing with Hinata, this is it, in the sixteen years since. He’s not much for meeting people (despite having met _a lot_ of people during his career), and he doesn’t have the slightest interest in apps or websites, so his only functioning option through his thirties has been knowing a person who knows a person.

Why it took until now, at 40, for him to actually agree to be set up for a date, is because he was waiting for something, though he had no idea he was. He didn’t know he was waiting until he found it. Someone with a common interest. He only has one true interest, hence the delay, but they came along eventually. Hinata Shouyou, a beach volleyball player.

Hinata retired just last season, whereas Tobio’s been out for two years. Their mutual acquaintance informed him that Hinata already knew of him, and about the accident. That wasn’t a surprise, considering even outside the volleyball world many, many people knew about the accident.

Kageyama had already played in two foreign leagues and two Olympics, been on the cover of dozens of magazines (a baffling number of which had nothing to do with sports), and signed an endorsement deal with the biggest athletic wear brand based in his home country, at 24. It was summer, and he and two other national team members and one coach had been picked up for a PR event. Their van was involved in a horrible traffic accident. No one died, and there are very few days when Kageyama isn’t grateful for that. But his coach was paralyzed from the waist down, and Kageyama Tobio, starting setter for Japan, was rushed into emergency surgery, where he had both legs amputated below the knee.

By the time his body was ready, he had already come to terms with shifting his career to sitting volleyball. His coach came with him, and while it could never be an easy transition, it was a relatively smooth one. And it was definitely _easier_ than the social transition. Accepting his body within the framework of a new set of athletic limitations was simpler, because he wasn’t good at romance to begin with. Social things have always been much more painful for him than volleyball things.

In about five minutes he’ll be on his eighth date with Hinata, and he’s probably gotten this far because this thing they’ve got going on falls closer to the volleyball end of the spectrum than it does the romantic end. They can talk about their families, their jobs, the weather, or another sport, but literally every time that Kageyama can remember, the conversation has bounced back to volleyball. Whenever the atmosphere does drift toward the semi-romantic, things get awkward, but Tobio’s fairly used to that and apparently Hinata is too. Everything between them seems to have an argument before it’s decided, but for whatever reason it doesn’t bother Kageyama. And for whatever reason, he likes Hinata.

There’s a knock on his door.

“Kageyama-kun, it’s me, Hinata.”

He’s said that every time they’ve met at Kageyama’s place. Kageyama rolls his eyes and opens the door.

“Hey,” Hinata grins. “How are you?”

“Fine, how are you.” He grabs his jacket and steps out.

“I’m good. So did you want to see the movie, or not?”

Kageyama shrugs.

“Come on.” Hinata elbows him. “I told you he’s my favorite actor! Shouldn’t you be willing to please me?”

“You didn’t say he was your favorite actor, you said he has the nicest pecs in the film industry.”

“Well it’s true! Don’t you want to see for yourself?”

“I looked at pecs every day for like twenty-five years, so no.”

Hinata laughs. “So did I, so if I say they’re nice, they’ve got to be freaking nice, Kageyama.”

“Let’s eat.”

“Fine, but you could’ve said right away that you have a preference for glutes, and then I would’ve understood.”

Kageyama rams his knee into Hinata’s gluteal region as he is trying to mount the bus.

“Ow!”

“Shut up.”

Hinata is awkward and somewhat strange. He is also a hell of a volleyball player. He lived in Brazil for most of his career, and was some kind of celebrity there, according to his Wikipedia page. Kageyama searched him up after being told he’s got a couple Olympic medals to his name, and sure enough, he was representing Japan for the first time in the same year Kageyama was representing in the Paralympics for the first time. Hinata’s said more than once that he doesn’t understand how they haven’t met before now, and Kageyama wonders too. He’s been called oblivious more than once, but this has to do with volleyball, so how did he miss it?

Over dinner Hinata tells him a story about some of the middle schoolers he’s currently coaching. Instead of laughing, Kageyama is scowling by the end.

“Are you even qualified to work with kids?”

“What? What does that mean?”

“If there was an actual crisis, like a serious injury, you don’t seem like you would be able to handle it.”

“Of course I would!”

Kageyama is not convinced by the childish pout of his cheeks. Then Hinata smirks.

“I can prove my capability,” he says, “If you come to one of our practices.”

“What?”

“Yeah! I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. It’d be really cool for them to have you as a guest at practice one day. You could say something inspirational about your high school days, and then, you know, show them some setting and stuff. Wouldn’t that be cool? Have you done anything like that before?”

“I don’t have anything inspirational to say,” Kageyama says. Hinata snorts.

“Well you can awe them with your silence then, they won’t think you’re weird at all.”

He snickers behind his hand. Kageyama’s lips tweak at one of the man’s many odd expressions.

“But would you?” Hinata says. “I think it’d be so cool for them to meet a mentor like that at a young age.”

His forehead screws up. “But they already have you.”

He laughs. “Well _yeah_ , you’ll never be as big of a hit as me, but still.”

As Kageyama observes, Hinata’s smile gets more pained, his face more red. Kageyama realizes what he said was accidentally complimentary, and that that has apparently had an embarrassing effect on Hinata. As the silence continues, Tobio feels more and more foolish. For a few minutes they get heavily focused on their meals.

“How’s work for you, Kageyama?”

He shrugs. Hinata smiles.

“What does that mean?”

It always takes him a moment, after Hinata’s smiles, because each time he decides that he likes them. Then he takes a second moment to actually consider his answer. Hinata doesn’t seem to mind this, as he’s always looking perfectly eager still by the time Kageyama is ready to respond.

“They want me to go get a degree,” he says, “So they can move me up from recruiting.”

“Wow, really? They want to promote you? That’s great, are you considering it?”

Kageyama snorts. “Why would I go to school now?”

“Lots of people do that these days. Like, later in life.”

“It’s weird.”

“It is not!”

“I was a terrible student,” Kageyama mumbles. “I don’t think anything would have changed.”

“Come on Kageyama, you should think seriously about it. You’d do well in one of those positions, they obviously think so, and it’s harder to find new challenges at our age, you know? And having you in a leadership position would be good for volleyball in Japan.”

He squints at the man across the table. “Why?”

“Because! You’re Kageyama Tobio!”

Then Hinata’s smile gets all twisted up, begrudging, like he’s jealous or something. Like Kageyama is competition of the most frustrating, but enthralling kind. Kageyama doesn’t know why, but he smiles back.

He used to think of his name that way, too. When it was announced overhead in huge stadiums, engraved on plaques and medals, mixed in among other resonating names on the national team roster. But then volleyball became less of a career, and more of a hobby that kept him going forward in life. There are far fewer leagues and competitions for volleyball players who can’t jump, he’d found out. The V-league team he’d been playing for valued him enough to hire him as a recruiter, and he’s been at that job ever since. He continued to train, for Paralympics and Worlds and other international tournaments, but it was quieter, with fewer interviews, meet and greets, and the like. His endorsement brand never contacted him about renewing his contract, so once it ran out, that was that. It was fine. He cared about volleyball enough that he didn’t need volleyball to continue caring about him.

He and Hinata decide, without discussion, that they’ll walk back to Kageyama’s place to make the date last a little longer. It’s the middle of autumn, a small range of color surrounding them, and a slight chill that makes one grateful to reach the perfect comfort of home. Currently Kageyama’s in no rush to get there, though. This has been another date where he finds himself liking Hinata’s smiles, especially the rare times when they’re a direct response to something he said (maybe he should do a little more talking). Hinata laughs at really stupid things, like abnormally round birds sitting on poles and the puns printed in advertisements. He’s incredibly serious in his sincerity when thanking, greeting and the like. And, if Kageyama’s highlighting all the positives here, Hinata’s not unattractive. The profile picture on his bio was nothing special, except the shock of hair, so Kageyama remained unbothered until they met in person. After that, he became swiftly _un_ unbothered. Hot and bothered, that’s the phrase he’s looking for.

One video of Hinata playing volleyball turned into twenty, which led to a ‘hinata shouyou volleyball shirtless’ image search, which then took him three hours to delete from his phone’s history. His interest has been piqued like never before, but disappointingly, nothing in the way of physical passion has come up between them. Soon, he’s going to have to accept that Hinata most likely has no interest in that kind of thing, with him as a partner. They have kissed, and they’ve been long ones the last few times. But then Hinata just says goodbye and the date’s over and that’s it, Kageyama goes home without even an erection to wonder about Hinata’s thighs instead of knowing about them.

“Hey, how old were you when you did that milk commercial?”

Kageyama almost trips.

“I never did a milk commercial.”

Hinata already has a broad smile on his face.

“You totally did. I never saw it in Brazil but a friend showed me when I was back in Japan once, it had a ton of online views. It’s hilarious!”

He glares at the sidewalk. “It was embarrassing.”

Hinata laughs heartily.

“But really, how old were you, you look like just a kid! It’s adorable.”

He laughs again.

“Shut up,” Kageyama hisses. “Obviously I was young or I never would’ve been stupid enough to agree to it.”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like you’ve changed all that much.”

His grin is about to burst him at the seams. Kageyama is irked enough that he decides to have a little fun of his own as payback. He darkens his entire aura, to look gravely offended.

“Are you calling me stupid?”

The corners of Hinata’s mouth sink, and his eyes get wider and wider. He gapes a few times before he’s able to speak.

“No! I would never—Of course I was just joking, I wouldn’t say that about you, Kageyama. I was only teasing!”

Kageyama smirks. After a moment, Hinata punches his arm.

“Jerk.” But he’s already smiling again.

They’ve reached Kageyama’s door. He turns to Hinata, who’s lingering next to the step like usual.

“Um—”

Kageyama stoops and kisses him. He does appreciate that Hinata wants to ask each time if it’s okay, but by the end of an evening together, Tobio’s tired of answering him with words. The kiss is the same as usual, enough to make little tendrils of electricity crawl down his spine, enough to make Hinata hum as he gathers himself to renew the pressure. Kageyama keeps his hands at Hinata’s elbows, rubs a little with his fingers and feels the shiver that goes up the back of Hinata’s arms. And when they’ve been at this same intensity long enough for the crackling of nerves to quiet, Hinata slowly breaks away. Kageyama lets him go.

“Hey, Kageyama? I was wondering something.”

How can he possibly have another unanswered question in that half empty brain? And right after their kiss, when Kageyama would prefer to retreat into his home in quiet, allowing the buzz to linger in his head a little longer. He grunts.

“Are you—Are you interested in having sex? With me?”

Hinata slaps his hand over his mouth. Kageyama stares as his face heats to a dangerous level, rivaling his hair. Hinata drops his hands into fists at his sides and takes a big breath.

“I—I meant are you interested in that kind of thing in general. Just like, with dating and—and that. Is what I was asking.”

Kageyama’s confusion overrides all his embarrassment, and what comes out of his mouth is:

“Why would you ask in general?”

“Well—Guh!”

Hinata tosses his hands, then balls them up and presses them over his eyes. He tosses them again.

“Okay then, between us would you—are you interested?”

Kageyama catches up during the moment of silence, and his eyes slide away to the ground. He hopes Hinata doesn’t have a knack for reading minds; the more likely is probably that he, Tobio, was being so painfully obvious in his manners and the direction of his gazes that even an absolute airhead of a man noticed.

His tongue feels like it’s coated with flour, and he has to run it against the roof of his mouth several times before everything unsticks.

“I am,” is his response to what Hinata was wondering. “Um, would be.”

He looks up, and after a second, Hinata nods. Then a small smile creeps into his cheeks, and Kageyama looks down again.

“Okay. Then how about next time?”

Next time? Kageyama’s guts sink, slowly, sickeningly. ‘Next time’ isn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Hinata says.

Kageyama looks up, and then Hinata grins, and in the dim light it feels covert, like a signal that only he will have the pleasure of seeing. But Kageyama won’t let himself get caught up in the trick, because now Hinata is leaving again.

He dawdles, long enough to plant another kiss on the lowest part of Tobio’s cheek, then blush fiercely, then finally turn and walk away.

“See you later, Kageyama!”

He doesn’t even try not to think about it as he sorts through his emails, or as he showers, or as he answers messages from his father. He thinks hard, analyzing their entire exchange of kisses against Hinata’s manner and expression as he made the inquiry about more. He is lying in bed when he comes to the grim conclusion.

Hinata is impulsive, he’s certain of that. And though he talks excessively, he is quick to action for things that require it. So if he really were intent on sex, they would have continued kissing, until it dissolved boundaries enough that they could pass through Tobio’s door with an eagerness to replace any hesitation.

‘Next time’ is a promise with no binding, one you can easily get out of. It’s only a time filler, in Kageyama’s mind. Hinata was the one to bring this up, and the one to put it off just a minute later, so it’s fair to assume his purpose was only to get it out there. To clear the air of it, one way or another, if they end up doing it once and Hinata says he’s not feeling it, or if he strings Kageyama out until he understands there’s no hope of it happening. If Hinata really wanted something, he would grab ahold of it. So would Kageyama, if he felt he were in the position to do so, but he’s learned that he no longer is.

He had many more pursuers than he would ever care to take advantage of before his accident (though he took advantage on occasion, when it was convenient and when he was feeling particularly optimistic). After the accident, after he switched leagues, that interest declined to something hardly noticeable, and now Kageyama understands that people have reservations about him that it’s not necessary for him to have about them. He knows it probably isn’t fair for him to take the lead on anything physical, without knowing that the other party is sure first. But Kageyama also knows that life itself isn’t fair, and that a ‘next time’ is never guaranteed to anyone.

There is a next date, a week and a few days later, which is about the average time they’ve taken between each one. Hinata’s been reminding him constantly that he has tickets to the women’s national team football event, so that’s where they’re headed. If Hinata ever gets here. Kageyama thought they had agreed to meet in the middle; he’s looking at the text that proves it. But Hinata’s now officially fifteen minutes late, and Tobio has never been late before, so he can’t justify it as payback. When he finally arrives, it’s not clear why he’s running behind schedule. He looks perfectly presentable. Or maybe that _is_ what makes it clear. His dark pants match suspiciously well with his choice of sneakers, and his fleece pullover is a creamy color that darkens the tan of his neck, which is exposed in just a sliver at the front of the collar where the zipper is pulled down. He looks too polished for a football game. Kageyama was pretty much expecting him to come in full face paint, for as much as he’s been hyping this up.

“Kageyama!”

He stands from the bench as Hinata rushes to him.

“I’m so sorry!” He bows. “I didn’t intend to keep you waiting at all! I hope you didn’t get cold sitting here.”

Kageyama glances down at his red jacket, the one with the flag but without his name.

“Ahhh, nice jacket,” Hinata crows. “I should’ve worn one of mine! I do have this.”

He waves the red and white scarf in his hand.

“We’ll be lucky if we even make this train.” Kageyama leads the way. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry!”

“You said that already.”

They do make the train, though as he’s getting on it Kageyama has to wonder if he’s actually happy about that, because Hinata suddenly bursts:

“Kageyama!”

Are Hinata’s legs too short to take him from the platform to the train? He turns. Hinata’s already standing inside the door.

“Red looks so good on you! You’re really handsome right—now…”

Hinata glances around the train, which is _not_ empty, and his embarrassment makes the tips of Kageyama’s ears burn as he jerks himself around and marches for the nearest seat. They’ve never complimented each other in any way other than volleyball-wise (and those are rare times), and he thought they had an unspoken agreement not to. He looks away from Hinata as he sits down next to him, but apparently people tend to pay attention when it’s announced that someone in the vicinity is handsome, because he makes eye contact several times before he finds his feet. He slumps a little and tries to look bored as the train starts moving.

“Hey,” he hears Hinata say, “We’re on a date, so you can quit ogling.”

As tempting as it is to tell Hinata it’s _his_ fault there’s any ogling whatsoever, Kageyama knows an argument may significantly reduce the likelihood of nakedness later, so he maintains a stony silence for the length of the trip. He would especially have liked to inform Hinata that he’s holding his peace for the sake of tree trunk legs and a tan line below the hips, and not because of his blush and the little star in his eye every time Kageyama looks his direction.

This is the worst date he’s ever been on, because it’s going horribly and he actually likes the idiot he’s on it with. Hinata nearly papercuts his throat with the ticket as he’s trying to hand it to him. Then he gets up during a break to hunt for souvenirs, and before he can make it into the aisle he ends up with Kageyama’s knee right in his crotch.

“I didn’t mean anything by that! That wasn’t intentional! I’m so sorry!”

“Then get off me!” Kageyama lifts his opposite foot and shoves Hinata back. A little too hard. Hinata’s eyes go wide as his arms windmill. Kageyama lunges and pulls him, blaming a shot of adrenaline when Hinata lands right on him.

Some guy behind them laughs.

“Don’t stay if you’d rather be somewhere else.”

Then the woman a couple seats down clucks her tongue.

“I have my child here,” she snaps.

“I’m sorry! This was just an accident—”

Kageyama grabs Hinata by the back of his jacket and pushes him into the aisle.

He’s never caused this kind of disruption in someone around him before. Hinata seems to lose momentary control of his limbs, then his tongue, then his single brain cell, and sometimes all three at once. As they go on this way, Kageyama goes from furious glances and rushes of color in his cheeks, to a stiff jaw and not-so-secret eye rolls. He begins to expect the worst. Hinata doesn’t want to go through with it, and he might even try to put an end to the whole thing between them, because he wants no part in crossing that line with Kageyama. He probably thinks it would be a lot of extra work for him. Or that it would be strange, like being with someone less than human. Kageyama hasn’t had to think about these things before, because he’s never had a date in his current condition and thus never gotten to this point. But he’s certainly thought about it now, in the days leading up to this date. He’s thought about all of it.

They get off the train and outside, where Kageyama tries to get a breath of fresh air, but Hinata interrupts.

“So, um…About that, uh, thing, that we were going to do?”

Kageyama stands still and meets his eyes. He’s thought about all of it. Hinata’s smiles, and airheadedness, his unabashed enthusiasm. How Hinata’s easy to argue with, but hard to be mad at. How Kageyama has looked forward to meeting up with him, wondering what he’ll talk about this time, what he’ll wear, if they’ll kiss again. He takes his deep breath, preparing to defend himself, even though part of him is going to feel terribly defeated if Hinata really is a jerk.

Hinata says:

“Would you prefer your place? We could definitely go to mine too, whatever you want! Is fine with me,” he adds in a hurried mutter.

“Mine,” Kageyama says, after a slight deliberation. He has a feeling he’ll regret it if he agrees to go to Hinata’s.

Hinata’s smile jumps into place. Then he reins it down just as quickly, which would be humorous in a circumstance where Kageyama wasn’t so on edge. Hinata looks especially serious now, as he nods. Kageyama turns in the direction of his home and slowly leads the way. Slowly, at first.

Hinata starts babbling about the game, and Kageyama lets him go on and on, his voice bouncing with his quick steps to keep up. This is happening. Hinata’s following him willingly, to his house, so the two of them can—He walks faster, imagining how Hinata’s voice will get quieter, how he’ll whisper, or maybe he’ll get _louder_ (Kageyama’s never disturbed his neighbors before, so they should be able to forgive him this one time). He walks faster, swinging his arms harder. Hinata will kiss him, and maybe other places, his neck or somewhere else, he hopes Hinata’s more imaginative than him. No one is getting in his way, or he would’ve plowed into them by now, him and Hinata, whose hip is attached to his by some invisible force and whose arm is swinging in perfect time with Kageyama’s. Tobio lunges for his front door, jumping the single step. He slides his key in and with one expert turn, the door is open. He pushes it shut once Hinata has stepped inside. He watches the man reach to turn the lock at the same time as he’s kicking off his shoes. Then he rounds on him, and Kageyama is up against the wall of his own entryway before he can say anything.

Hinata kisses him, his movements choppy and fast, holding him by fistfuls of his jacket at the shoulders. Kageyama’s first, instinctual response is to push back, to even their positions into the middle of the hall, before returning the kiss. Hinata’s arms aren’t in their usual vicinity, so Kageyama takes a plunge, hands finding his ribs and sliding down to his hips. He skips a breath and probably a heartbeat, then huffs into the kiss as he pulls him in. Hinata’s hand clamps overtop of his on one side. He wraps his other arm around Kageyama’s neck. The more they kiss, the hungrier Tobio gets, the more his lips want harder, and faster, and then Hinata jerks away from him. He can’t even begin to form an apology, he’s so _horrified_ that he’s done something his guest didn’t want—Wait, Hinata is doing the apologizing.

“Uhh, sorry, I didn’t mean to just—Uh, sorry.”

He holds his hands behind his back, blushing and looking from Kageyama to the floor.

Tobio swallows his shame, only for it to be replaced by something barely less unpleasant. Given his age, he thought nerves would be a non-issue in this situation, but something like nerves has definitely caught up to him. He’s…scared. He is. What will Hinata think about him? What will he not be able to do, because of the differences with his body? Is he going to _disappoint_ him?

“Kageyama?”

By the look on Hinata’s face, he’s already done that.

“Um—Were you having second thoughts?”

“What?” he barks, struggling toward full awareness.

Hinata raises his voice a little.

“Well I asked—Your bed or the couch?”

“The—The couch.”

“Okay.” Hinata frowns. “And—you’re not having second thoughts?”

Kageyama grits his teeth.

“I am—” He breathes deeply. “But they don’t have anything to do with you.”

“Oh,” Hinata says. “Mine don’t have anything to do with you either, so…Are we okay then?”

It takes some effort for Kageyama to digest this sentence; Hinata is actually a person who feels reservations about things? And they’re _not_ —about him?

Tobio slips off his shoes, sets his shoulders and passes through the entry to the right, making for the couch. When he turns to sit, Hinata has followed him closely, and he almost flinches.

“G—Give me a minute.”

“Okay,” he says instantly, hopping back.

Kageyama grimaces at the floor as he rolls up his pant leg. He already decided he’d take off his prosthetics beforehand, to avoid anything weird happening with them getting in the way or getting painful. And also because this is the reality of him, and he figures it’s fairest to both of them that he make that clear right away. But it’s still awkward, and it’s necessary to say something.

“I know we can’t—fall all over each other, because of this…”

Hinata chuckles. “Well we’re not 20, so would we really do that anyway?”

Kageyama’s arms and shoulders are currently engaged in popping his leg from its pin, so he can’t really shrug, and chooses to give no answer. He finishes with the left and goes to the right. The familiar noises are loud to him, in the quiet space, and he wonders if they’re even louder to Hinata, or quieter. He sets his things away on the floor and settles himself on the middle couch cushion, before he looks up at Hinata again. Hinata, who has hovered closer and is looking eager, impatient even.

“Can I get on your lap?”

Kageyama wrestles with his tongue. If the man is going to be this explicit the whole night, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stand it.

“Fine,” he chokes out, though it’s definitely not the case that he _doesn’t_ want Hinata on his lap.

Hinata squares up to him, plants his hands on either side of his head on the back of the couch, and vaults himself on top. His hands slide off the couch to Kageyama’s neck, and they’re kissing again. Kageyama can definitely hold him better than he could before, one hand on his hip and the other arm wrapped around his waist. He can smell a lot more of Hinata, of a plain detergent and slightly fruity shampoo, and taste a lot more, mostly of the gum they both chew habitually after shared meals. And when they do eventually get _there_ , Hinata’s thighs are pressed up against the sides of his waist and he can feel a lot more of him, too. Hinata pops the seal between their lips and buries his face in Kageyama’s neck, smothering the skin with his mouth. Kageyama instantly breaks into a sweat. Hinata huffs in his ear.

“That cologne smells so good on you. Sexy bastard.”

He sounds genuinely irritated, which is so ridiculous that Tobio almost smiles.

They kiss, but he wonders if either of them are even enjoying it, as they put absolute focus into giving it to the other. Hinata Shouyou shouldn’t be allowed to call anyone else sexy; all Kageyama can see is glistening bronzed skin and flaming hair, abs snapping like a stretched rubber band as golden eyes scour the other side of the net, alight with a predatory shine. He sees his chest and arms flex with his cry of victory, he sees his tiny shorts discarded and hands all over his body—They’re not on that beach in Brazil, but Kageyama realizes he can make it happen right here, if Hinata doesn’t object. He slips his hands under Hinata’s sweater and undershirt, settling one between his shoulder blades and sliding the other across his lower back until his arm circles around his bare waist. Hinata kisses him wetter, and louder, tangling his fingers deeper into the bottom of his hair.

This is going fine. Good, even. He’s got Hinata in his lap and his hands on his skin, and no urge to breathe through the lips smothering his. But when they reach the point where Hinata’s hips are jutting sharply in search of pressure against his erection, and where Kageyama can hardly hold back a groan when his presses into Hinata’s body, he knows he can’t ignore the fact that something has to come next, or at least that he shouldn’t ignore it. Kageyama has to make a greater effort, a certain move. What position? What does Hinata want? What is he capable of doing that will please him? Once again, Hinata interrupts his internal panic with actual productive questions.

“How should we do it? So we’re comfortable?”

Tobio tries to thoroughly consider what’s best, but he’s a little too tense to be productive at a moment’s notice.

“I’m comfortable here,” he mumbles.

Hinata puts a firmer grip on his shoulder and grinds them together. “M—Me too.”

Hinata’s comfortable, and they’re good to go forward. Kageyama finds his voice for a moment.

“I’m going to undress, if that’s alright.”

Hinata dons a goblin-like smile, with no teeth and a crease so high in his cheeks it looks painful. He nods hard.

“Me too.”

He hops off, and his pants land just after Kageyama’s jacket on the end of the couch. Hinata sets a handful of condoms and an extra small bottle of lube next to Kageyama on the couch, which he had apparently been keeping in his pocket. Kageyama almost smacks himself for not even thinking of that; he got the necessary items, but they’re inside the nightstand next to his bed. Hinata takes off his socks, laying them neatly on the floor near the couch, then strips his sweater off and adds it to the discard pile. Now he stands in a snug white t-shirt and blue briefs.

Speaking of extra small, Hinata’s feet are _tiny_. They look cute on Kageyama’s living room floor. No, that’s not the thing to focus on right now. Before he properly checks him out, Hinata comes close again, waiting to settle back on him.

“Done?”

Kageyama spreads his hands against his legs. “Um—”

The jeans are a problem. There’s no way to keep them hanging on at his knees, and any farther up will likely obstruct things. So, he lifts his hips and works them down, until he hears the soft crumple as they hit the floor. He raises his eyes, defiant as he’s been during every new revelation on what he’s lost. Hinata creeps forward. His eyes flicker down as he places his knees back on the couch, and his hands behind Kageyama’s shoulders. He hovers over his lap.

“Okay?”

“Is it for you?”

“Why are you snapping at me?” Hinata demands, “Just because I asked first? I’m fine like this.”

“I’m also fine.”

But he realizes, the moment he says it, that he’s really not. Kageyama’s not fine. He’s missing half his legs. Hinata is there and complete, soft gingery hair covering wide calves and scarred shins. Kageyama literally doesn’t have shins, or ankles, or feet, and it’s right there for his partner to see.

“Can I touch you here, Kageyama?”

He looks up at Hinata’s face, then follows his eyes back down. His hands wait above Kageyama’s thighs.

“If you want,” he grumbles.

“That’s not an answer! Yes or no?”

His fingers twitch, and Kageyama looks to Hinata’s face, surprised to see the way he bites his lip, as if he’s consciously holding back. As if he really does want to touch him there. It strikes Kageyama, and he responds more weakly than he intended.

“Yes.”

His hands are small and hot. He gives a gentle rub up and down, and again.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s fine, Hinata.”

He does it again. His hands feel so small. Kageyama wants to hold one in his, to really see, but he’s not going to do that because it’d be weird. Hinata continues, lightly, predictable, and it’s like his thighs are made of coals that he’s stirring up, until Kageyama’s sure his hands must be burning from the radiating heat. He’s definitely going to think about this later, probably quite often, but as enjoyable as it is, Kageyama doesn’t want to be stuck here all night and not get beyond this. He puts his hand on the back of Hinata’s neck and pulls him in to kiss. Hinata is ready to meet him, just when he thought he’d be the aggressor.

Hinata tries to keep kissing him as he shifts in Kageyama’s lap. He slides closer, until their navels would be pressed together if not for the dicks getting in the way. Kageyama peeks as Hinata drops his hands behind him, back to his thighs. He starts to handle him more firmly, digging deeper into his muscle, squeezing handfuls of his hamstrings and making Kageyama lift his pelvis just a little, holding a noise behind his teeth.

“This? Okay?”

He lets out his breath carefully. “Yes.”

Hinata keeps working his fingers, and Kageyama wonders if he knows a few things about massages, because his legs are turning mushy in his hands. He works up to the top, then down the back of his thighs, until he gets behind his knees. His touch lightens to a tickle. Kageyama’s crotch burns. Hinata squeezes him there, palms pressing next to his kneecaps, and Kageyama shuts his eyes and rolls his hips. He meets serious pressure, and peels his eyes open to see Hinata has rolled forward at the same time. Kageyama grabs his waist and pulls him harder. Heat sears over his skin and he gasps. He immediately focuses on Hinata, so embarrassed that he has to know if he’s being looked at. He’s not, because Hinata’s eyes are closed, his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth open obscenely, lips fluttering around the ‘o’. His hips move the little they can, two desperate pushes, before Kageyama lets him back and gives them both room for a full roll; they collide and Kageyama feels the hot breath of Hinata’s on his neck, and leaks warm and thick into his underwear.

“This feels good, Ka—geyama. For you?”

He has zero interest in speaking at the moment, when the only thing keeping him from bucking wildly into the perfect weight of this small volleyball player’s body is his lack of leverage. It feels like they’re slowly melting together, Hinata’s ass sinking into his thighs and their wetness mingling into one mess between their crotches.

“Do you want to…do the honors?”

Kageyama blinks several times. He puts it together, and covers his face with his hand.

“Dumbass…”

“What?” he yelps.

Then he leans close, hair tickling Kageyama’s neck, and Tobio peeks through his fingers to see him with his face buried in the back of the couch. When he reappears, he smiles through his embarrassment.

“You do it, and I’ll receive, okay?”

Hinata reaches for a condom, then catches his eye and gives a small nod. Tobio nods back. Then Hinata rocks himself off the couch, wiggles out of his briefs, and rolls on the condom. Kageyama quickly takes one from the pile and pushes his underwear out of the way, putting it on as Hinata rests one knee back on the couch and picks up the lube. He squirts it onto two fingers, spreads his knees a little farther apart, and reaches between his legs.

“Oh,” he says, “It’s warm from my pocket.”

Kageyama wrinkles his nose, but Hinata is looking somewhere past him. He sinks against him, chin resting on Kageyama’s shoulder, their chests pressed together. In this position Kageyama can feel his arm shifting as he works himself open. He makes a squeaky noise that ends in a deep, gut-stirring sigh.

“Your place is nice,” he says, probably attempting to distract from the noises. “Really nice. Like, it seems comfortable. Do you like it here?”

“Yeah.”

Then Hinata shoves his face into the crook of his neck, and whatever sound was going to come out bleeds into Kageyama’s skin.

“So—how well can you hear your neighbors?”

Kageyama doesn’t answer. His heart is starting to pound again, like when Hinata first ambushed him inside the door. It thumps hard at every hitch of Hinata’s elbow and every breath he huffs under his ear.

“Let me.” When Hinata leans back to peer at him in the relative dark of the living room, he rushes to elaborate. “If it’s okay. I’ll do a good job.”

Hinata snorts. Kageyama frowns, but he’s apparently going to get a chance, because Hinata brings his hand out and wipes it on the front of his own shirt, then uses Kageyama’s shoulders to hike himself farther up. Kageyama busies himself with the lube, determined not to fumble the cap or squeeze out too much while Hinata’s watching.

“Hey, if you scowl any harder your boner’s gonna go away.”

Hinata snickers. Was that supposed to be a joke? Kageyama studies him until Hinata’s cheeks puff into a pout, and he’s the one scowling.

“What?”

He starts to grumble something else, but cuts off when Kageyama moves his hand down between them. Kageyama tells himself it’s okay to look when he’s doing it by necessity. But then the question is, has he done anything so far that earned him the right to look? Hinata is just as—as whatever he is, here, as everywhere else. His skin holds to his muscles in a way that explains he’s no longer 20, yet exudes all the benefits of the lifestyle he’s led, and as a montage of Hinata taking care of himself plays at light speed in his head, Kageyama has never been more turned on in his life. Between delicious thighs shined up with lube are a set of balls with strangely pleasing symmetry and a cherry red cockhead pushed cleanly away from its foreskin. It’s as ugly as any old dick, but for some reason it looks flawless on this man. He decides that he will earn what has graced his vision right now with the best work his hands can do.

He starts with one finger; when the second goes in so easily, Kageyama loses his head. He pushes them all the way in, and works in small movements, keeping them deep, hot and slick. He reaches around with his other hand and pulls Hinata’s cheeks apart. His palm and wrist are pressed against his partner’s balls and shaft, and Hinata rides forward to increase the pressure. He whines, and Kageyama snaps to attention, getting ahold of himself and slowing back down. He puts a third finger in, easing the muscles open. Hinata feels him up while he’s working. He hardly _can_ work, with Hinata’s hands apparently determined to touch all available parts of his body, fighting with his shirt at every curve and bend. He touches his body insistently, not like he owns it, but like he wants to.

“Guess you haven’t let yourself go,” Hinata mumbles, running his hand up and down between his pecs. “Old man.”

Kageyama scoffs in his ear, and Hinata pulls back to look at him.

“You’re older than me,” Kageyama says.

“But you retired first.” He smirks.

He’ll show Hinata who’s retired. He doesn’t say it out loud, but Hinata laughs while Kageyama rushes to get his dick inside him, as if he actually did say it.

He struggles to fit his legs on the couch in a way that will give him sufficient leverage. It’d be nice if he had one of those coffee tables, even though he doesn’t drink coffee. He ends up with his legs spread in a wide V and his weight back far enough to slightly recline his seat on the couch. His hip strength has never failed him before, and he’s ready to fuck Hinata Shouyou.

“Hey—” Hinata’s trying to speak between bounces—“I want to help!”

He’s about to argue when Hinata comes down on him, hitting it hard enough to make the spark in his belly fizzle for a white-hot instant.

“F—Fine” squeezes from his chest.

It feels good to chase an orgasm this way, once he’s let his guard down (most of it). It’s good when Hinata’s ass meets his thighs, it’s good when his cock nearly slips out of him, only to be covered to the base in heat, and Hinata is being loud, which Kageyama can say without comparing is better than quiet.

“Am I—” His voice cracks and splays above Kageyama’s head. Hinata sucks in a breath, and manages to whisper the next part. “Being too loud?”

“No.” Kageyama pushes him up by the hips and tugs him down to meet his full thrust.

“Ah!” Then Hinata’s laughter rings out, bouncy and shaky as they keep fucking. “You bastard, Kageyama!”

He hardly notices as he rapidly closes in on his climax; Hinata is a distraction to rival even his body’s signals to his brain. He wonders, if Hinata were there during the accident, could he have looked at him, and for a moment not felt the pain?

“Are you close?”

Is Hinata asking because he can tell, or because _he’s_ close and doesn’t want to be outlasted?

“Huh Kageyama? You close?”

“Yes,” he hisses.

“Me too,” Hinata hiccups.

Kageyama goes right for it, orgasm wringing out his nerves within a few seconds. He squeezes Hinata in his arms and humps through it, hearing a cry somewhere in the middle when Hinata comes undone. He continues to ride him once Kageyama’s pleasure has bled out. Eventually, he slumps down and hides his face in Kageyama’s neck as he hits one last spurt. Then he takes a big breath, and sighs.

Hinata smiles against his neck, and pats his shoulder.

“Thanks, Kageyama.”

“Dumbass, you don’t say thanks after sex.”

Hinata chuckles. “Well why not? It’s not a bad thing to say.”

He leans back, and there’s an exchange of glances, and Hinata’s probably going to get off him now. He lifts one leg, then the other, now resting on his knees outside Kageyama’s legs. Then he molds his hands against the curves of his quads, and rubs lightly like he did at first. Hinata is apparently comfortable enough now to do just what he wants without thinking twice; he falls face first into Kageyama’s chest, nestling between his pecs, which might be weird, but Kageyama doesn’t care. Hinata sighs warmly through his t-shirt, then raises his head to put his lips against his neck. Kageyama doesn’t wrap his arms around him, deterred by the level of intimacy in it; he keeps his hands on Hinata’s hips, daring to brush over the bones with his thumbs, matching the easy pace of Hinata’s hands against his thighs.

Hinata seems so simple to read, in hindsight, that Kageyama is annoyed at how much energy he expended thinking circles around him. He was excited, and obviously nervous, to get to tonight’s action, and now he’s satisfied and amused at how things turned out. About as simple as Kageyama himself.

He’s unaware that he’s about to doze off, until he feels a shift on his lap and jerks up. His hands have slid down Hinata’s legs to his knees. The redhead grins, nose scrunched devilishly.

“Tired out, Kageyama-kun?”

He grumbles a negative and sits up straighter. Hinata gets off of him and grabs his underwear from the floor. He holds them in his fist as he stands there shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Uh, any chance I could clean up a little?”

Kageyama clears his throat and points back to the entry. “Bathroom’s straight down.”

Hinata flashes a polite smile, gathers his clothes into his arms, then literally flashes Kageyama as he scoots out of the room. His butt is paler than the rest of him. Kageyama grins about it. The smile fades slowly from his mouth. He pulls up his underwear and stretches out farther on the couch. He is admittedly a little tired; he’s in good shape, but not this specific activity shape. Hinata seemed shaky on his legs though, just now, so he’s not wounded over it.

Hinata reappears in no time at all, it seems, and Kageyama hurries to sit up, situating his shirt so it covers a bit lower. Hinata is fully dressed.

“Did you want to spend the night?”

Tobio tosses it into the air, embarrassed at his failings as a host.

Hinata laughs. “It doesn’t really count as an invitation when you say it so uninvitingly, Kageyama.”

Kageyama scowls, flushing red.

“I meant that you’re free to stay, if you’d like to.”

He looks at Hinata, who smiles, a hand straying to rub the back of his neck.

“I should sleep in my own bed,” he says, “Or I’ll feel more than I’m already going to tomorrow.”

That’s surprisingly logical, coming from this man. Kageyama nods his understanding. Hinata doesn’t leave.

“So, would you like to go out again? I thought we could—I mean, I wanted to—to go to the beach with you. Um, not in a weird way, not like some cheesy movie or anything. It’s just that—I’d like to play with you! Volleyball! You could give me some tosses, you know?”

Tosses? Him, setting for Hinata? On the beach?

“And I thought I could pack us lunch,” Hinata says.

Kageyama raises an eyebrow. “You said it wouldn’t be cheesy.”

“What?” he scoffs. “It’s just lunch. We’ve eaten out a lot, so I thought we could change things up.”

Hinata plows on through the quiet.

“So what do you say?”

Kageyama’s voice comes out quietly, though he didn’t mean it to.

“Sounds fine.”

Hinata nods, obviously trying very hard to hold his serious expression. It’s Kageyama who smiles first, wide and sly and embarrassingly warm, but he wants Hinata to see it.

“So I’ll see you later, then.”

Hinata beams, that big eye-closing beam of his. “Yeah. Um, next week? Are you still free Wednesday evenings?”

He nods.

“Okay, Wednesday then. I’ll see you.” Then he leans down. “Um, should we? One more?”

Kageyama nods again as he’s pulling Hinata by the shoulder. Their lips meet, then part, and Hinata tastes like Hinata’s mints and favorite meat bun flavor, and smells like Hinata’s shampoo, and feels like someone who’s touched his body without making him wish he had the rest of it back, like so many things in his life have. Kageyama puts his other hand on his neck to hold him even more firmly. He sucks breath through the corner of his mouth, brow creasing in concentration. When they pull apart, Hinata grins.

“Are you sure you don’t _want_ me to stay the night?”

Kageyama pushes his face away, and Hinata laughs, loud and light and twinkly. Something warm wraps around Kageyama’s chest like a blanket, and Kageyama tugs him down by the shirt and kisses him one more time. This one leaves Hinata looking dazed, subdued for the first time all day.

“See you later, Hinata,” he almost laughs.

Hinata’s smile is delayed.

“Yeah, see you later.”

Kageyama watches him go back into the entry. He listens until the front door clicks shut, then slides off the couch and scoots over to the corner where his wheelchair is tucked away just in case. He moves himself around the couch to gather his prosthetics and clothes. Before he heads to the shower, he sneaks to the window to look down at the street.

Hinata is passing through the light of a street lamp. Tobio can’t make out his face well. But he definitely sees him pump his fist. He stops, and shimmies side to side, wiggling his butt. Then he does a little kick jump and takes off running into the dark. Kageyama laughs at him, but it’s only a single short note, and then he’s pressing his hand over his face to hide a miserably large smile.


End file.
